Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

up and dialed 9-1-1 with it. Instantly, the young man's face was there, smiling at me on the FaceTime again, "Hi," he said.
    I frowned, trying to see behind him in the picture, "What do you want?"
    He shook his head, "Just for you to survive all this and not make the same mistake your husband made. You're of use to him alive for now, but you need to remember, that he doesn’t care if your sweet old mom takes care of the kids for the rest of their lives."
    I gulped, "Why are you doing this to me?" My throat was almost frozen. I felt sickened.
    He shook his head again, "I don’t know. It isn’t me. I'm just the receptionist of sorts."
    His blue eyes would be burned into my mind forever.
    "Are you hackers?" I asked.
    He laughed, "I guess, sort of. Look, just do as he asks. He doesn’t do well with insubordination."
    Rage filled me, "You aren’t even old enough to spell that word, you little shit." My spit hit the screen. He gave me a perplexed look and then he was gone, again. Annoying little dick.
    I screamed and threw the phone.
    I could drive back and get my kids, but where would I go with no money and no house. My mom's old-age pension and Dad's retirement was great, but it wasn’t going to get us all by. Especially, not if we were trying to live off grid and be on the run from the government, trying to control every facet of my life.
    I didn’t want that. The life we led was something I didn’t want to give up. My kids went to the best schools in Weston. The community was amazing. How could I remove them from everything they knew, after everything they'd been through? I could run, but what kind of life was that??
    My brain whispered that it was better than death.
    I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. How had I bought it all? How had I believed all the lies? I was starting to feel like a broken record.
    I gripped the steering wheel, as angry tears streamed down my cheeks. I wiped them away and parked a couple blocks from the hotel. I needed the air before I had to face Mr. Cooper.
    I strolled up in the damp air of the post-rain evening. The bellhop greeted me with a quizzical brow.
    "Good evening, ma'am." He opened the door for me. I smirked at his Boston accent. It always reminded me of Matt Damon.
    I entered the lobby and was instantly greeted by the young man I had just raged at on the phone. He walked to me and grinned, "Floor 23, suite 2304." He walked past me like he hadn’t meant to speak to me at all, like the kids downtown who offered drugs in muttered words.
    I paused and watched, surely covered in confusion, as he left the building. Swallowing my nerves, I turned back to the lobby. It was busy, bustling and moving with people who had no clue about the things happening in front of them. I was being victimized within reach of each of them.
    Surely, I could just reach out and touch one of them to explain. Maybe I could cry , I was on the verge of tears again anyway. One of them would help me, would they not?
    In the moment I felt like doing it, a woman walked up to me with a patronizing look on her face, "Are you lost?" she asked.
    I opened my mouth but nothing came out. The fears of what would happen to my aging mother and two children flashed through my mind. There wouldn’t even be enough money to bury me, if everything was really in his name.
    I shook my head and walked past her, "Just thought I forgot something."
    She nodded and smiled and I wanted to slap the look off her face. It wasn’t a rational response, but I didn’t think I had any of those left. There was a me that no one had seen in a long time, and I was terrified she would find her way out of me, like a demon.
    The elevator doors opened to the bellhop inside smiling at me, "What floor?"
    I closed my eyes and stepped inside of the large space, "Twenty-three."
    He nodded, "You having a lovely evening?"
    The doors closed, sealing my fate. I looked at my reflection in the shiny doors and nodded my head, like a good soldier, "Very lovely."
    He smiled back at me, "Excellent."
    I had a hard time recognizing the face in the shiny metal. I didn’t know her anymore. The dead lifeless look in her eyes was one I had tried to forget about.
    The elevator landed smoothly. When I stepped off, I felt a rush of fear and regret. I glanced back at the man inside.
    He looked up from the buttons and frowned, "You alright?"
    I swallowed the bile in the back of my throat down and nodded, "Have a nice night," I muttered.
    The stricken